A World

A World of terror and wonder

spinning though an unpredictable

and unrepentant universe, loosely

bound by gravity and hope.

We are untethered in mind, perhaps,

by soul, yet grounded to the world we

have to call home, surrounded by

dangers and desires.

We spin, unnoticed, beyond the

rising and setting of our star, tied to

its fate and a fate that we make for

ourselves regardless of our ultimate ends.

It is on this rock we declare, “I am here”,

shouted to a vast vacuum in the venial hope

we’re heard, we’re acknowledged, we’re

cured of the ills that are our lonely burdens.

This world where love exists, yet for some love seems just

as unreachable as the nearest cosmic neighbor.

A planet of hopes, dreams, wishes, work, and

sweat, of consequence and inconsequence.

A world where nothing means anything against

the ravages or time, but it means everything,

each heart-beat savored, each long kiss delighted,

each touch relished, all to dust in time.

This planet, where we try not to care, we try not

to overreach, underwhelm, overwhelm, whelm,

but seek the equilibrium that comes with acknowledging,

the smallness and the hugeness all at once.

In all things we are simultaneous, existing,

fabricating, and being undone. Skeptical

optimism seen through a cracked telescopic

lens, peering toward a future muddied with the past.

A world, spinning in precious fear, in the dark,

hoping the next rotation, the next orbit, the next swirl,

will bring change, the constant, predictable change,

in our short-sighted eyes.